Dark and Stormy Night
by dawnsong
Summary: my first songfic =D based on the misty song dark and stormy night, please r&r and enjoy!


Disclaimer: song is mistys, so i guess most of the plot is hers too... rest is aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllll mine...

[a/n: song is Dark and Stormy Night, its on Heralds, Harpers, and Havoc track 6. enjoy!]

**Dark and Stormy Night**

_It was a dark and stormy night, or so the Heralds say-_

_The lightning striking constantly transformed the night to day_

            It really was a dark and stormy night.  Bard Rythan looked out the windows of the Banquet Hall and shivered.  He was glad he wasn't out in the storm, and pitied anyone who was. He'd arrived at Count Willith's castle just before the storm hit, and he would be staying for a month or two providing entertainment. Count Willith happened to be a childhood friend, and he'd just gotten married.

_The thunder roared the castle round, or thusly runs the tale-_

_And rising from the Northeast Tower, there came a fearful wail..._

            After dinner that night, Rythan and Willith sat visiting is one of Willith's personal rooms. As they were sitting and reminiscing, Rythan heard a very unmusical shriek and winced.

            "Will, what was *that*?!" Willith sighed. 

_It was no beast nor banshee, that- the castle folk knew well-_

_No prisoner in agony, nor demon trapped by spell,_

_No ghost that moaned in penance, nor a soul in mortal fright-_

_'Twas just the Countess singing, for she practiced every night!_

            "Reesa. My lovely, manipulating, so-called-musical wife. Practicing in the north tower. This tower is the closest to the northeast, so we can hear her. She doesn't want anyone to hear her practice, because she thinks she needs to sing perfectly for her audience."

            "I thought she could sing!"

            "So does she."

            "Does she do this often?"

            "Every night."

_The Countess was convinced that she should have been born a Bard,_

_And thus she made the lives of those within her power hard-_

_For they must listen to her sing, and smile at what they heard,_

_And swear she had a golden voice that rivaled any bird._

            "Well, then, this is going to be a pleasant visit..."

            "Every weekend she performs for the court what she's been practicing. She sings for me every night in our suite. She always wanted to be a Bard, but she didn't have any of the Gifts. And her parents, of course, didn't want her to train as a minstrel..." Willith sighed.

_The Countess was convinced that she had wedded 'neath her state,_

_And so the worse lot fell upon her meek and mild mate-_

_Not only must the Count each night endure her every song,_

_But suffer silent her abuse, be blamed for every wrong._

            "Well, Will, why did you marry her? She sounds like a nag."

            "When I met her, she seemed beautiful, sweet, and docile. Then I married her..." He sighed again.

            "I see." Rythan frowned, then smiled. I think I know what I can do..."

Willith leaned forward eagerly, and Rythan divulged his brilliant plan.

            "Marvelous! the next feast will be in about a month..."

ONE MONTH LATER

            It was another dark, stormy evening, but a feast inside brightened the Hall like nothing else could. As Rythan was singing and playing his harp, the countess quietly rose and beckoned Willith to come with her. Rythan smiled as he sang. The plan was all falling into place... Reesa always gave a little private concert for Willith after feasts. Once Rythan finished playing, the lords and ladies began to leave. Rythan bowed and made his way out.  He went down to the kitchen, where the servants would feast past dawn. After an hour or two, Willith came and joined him. The servants were surprised to see him, but he reassured them he only wished to enjoy Rythan's company and theirs, as they laughed and joked for hours. No one noticed when, or if, Rythan and the count ever left.

_It was a dark and stormy night, or so the Bards aver-_

_And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir,_

_When suddenly the music ceased... so when dawn raised his head..._

_Within the tower, servants found the Countess stiff and dead!_

            The next morning, Nisa, a young servant-girl who waited on Reesa, came into her room to wake her and screamed. Reesa was dead! She lay on the floor, rigid with rigor mortis. Nisa ran down to tell the count.

            "What?! My wife? In her own bedroom?" he roared. "Send for a Herald!"

_The Heralds came at once to judge if there had been foul play-_

_And questioned all most carefully, to hear what they would say,_

_And one fact most astounding to them quickly came to light-_

_That every movement of the Count was vouched for on that night!_

            It happened that there was a pair of Heralds on circuit who were nearby. They were at the castle the next morning, questioning the entire castle. Thy suspected Willith, but all the servants vouched for him. They had all seen him at the late-night party with Rythan, and the party had lasted far past midnight. The countess was supposed to have died around midnight, but the servants, Willith, and Rythan were all at the party.

_The castle folk, by ones and twos, came forward on their own_

_To swear the Count had never once that night been all alone;_

_So though the tower had been locked tight, with two keys to the door-_

_One his, one hers- the Count was plain absolved of guilt for sure!_

            It seemed to be a locked-door mystery- the tower door had two locks, and the only people with those keys were Willith and Reesa. The countess was inside, and the only other way to get inside the tower was through the window. The window didn't open, and the glass was fully intact. Even using their Truth Spell, the Heralds, Elcanth and Midra, and their Companions, Tantalay and Sira,  couldn't find out how the countess had been murdered.  There was only one possible solution, but there was one little thing that kept the Heralds wondering...

_At length the Heralds then pronounced her death as suicide,_

_And all within the district wished themselves quite satisfied;_

_It was a verdict after all that none wished to refute-_

_Though no one could imagine why she tried to eat her lute!_

            And Rythan only smiled.

Dark and Stormy Night (for anyone who wants to read the song but doesnt feel like trudging through pages of horrendous fanfic... =D)

It was a dark and stormy night, or so the Heralds say-

The lightning striking constantly transformed the night to day

The thunder roared the castle round, or thusly runs the tale-

And rising from the Northeast Tower, there came a fearful wail...

It was no beast nor banshee, that- the castle folk knew well-

No prisoner in agony, nor demon trapped by spell,

No ghost that moaned in penance, nor a soul in mortal fright-

'Twas just the Countess singing for she practiced every night!

The Countess was convinced that she should have been born a Bard,

And thus she made the lives of those within her power hard-

For they must listen to her sing and smile at what they heard,

And swear she had a golden voice that rivaled any bird.

The Countess was convinced that she had wedded 'neath her state,

And so the worse lot fell upon her meek and mild mate-

Not only must the Count each night endure her every song,

But suffer silent her abuse, be blamed for every wrong.

It was a dark and stormy night, or so the Bards aver-

And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir,

When suddenly the music ceased... so when dawn raised his head...  

Within the tower, servants found the Countess stiff and dead!

The Heralds came at once to judge if there had been foul play-

And questioned all most carefully, to hear what they would say,

And one fact most astounding to them quickly came to light-

That every movement of the Count was vouched for on that night!

The castle folk, by ones and twos, came forward on their own

To swear the Count had never once that night been all alone;

So though the tower had been locked tight, with two keys to the door-

One his, one hers- the Count was plain absolved of guilt for sure!

At length the Heralds then pronounced her death as suicide,

And all within the district wished themselves quite satisfied;

It was a verdict after all that none wished to refute-

Though no one could imagine why she tried to eat her lute!

[a/n: waddya think? good/bad/ugly/stupendous? r&r and lemme kno how i can make it better. or... or... or cirillamiep and shiramiep the druids (dont ask, but they go by ciri and shira) will attack you all with... bad stuff. yeah. any flames, please direct them to the grill. i have smores waiting to toast...]


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